Thieves' Day Out
by serenelystrange
Summary: Written for Leverage sesa 2010 over on LJ, for themonkeytwin. Hope you like it!  Basically.. this is a little team!fic piece, set sometime in season 1. Parker decides that the team needs some fun after a job, and pulls the others along.


A/N – this should probably be read as set sometime in season 1. Nate's not in a good place. But besides that.. no real spoilers or anything, lol. Also, Good Time Emporium is actually real, we had one here in MA, but it closed down. But as this is set in season 1, and thus LA.. maybe just handwave that knowledge away, :)

.

.

.

"Oooh! Turn around, turn around!"

Nate pulls to the side of the road at Parker's insistent tone.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"We have to go there!" Parker says, turning to look out the back window and point.

"Dammit, Parker, we thought something was wrong!" Eliot says, giving her a glare before closing his eyes and resuming his post-fight rest.

"Sweetheart, you can't scare us like that," Sophie explains, now that her heart is beating normally again.

Parker loses no enthusiasm.

"But! It says Good Time Emporium. Which means it must be a good time. Come on! I bet they have ice cream."

Hardison laughs and knocks his shoulder against hers in the snug backseat.

"Girl, we got ice cream at home."

"_My_ home," Nate corrects, absently.

"My _building_," Hardison counters, smirking.

"**My ice cream**," Eliot growls, proving that he, in fact, only appears to be sleeping.

.

A truck zooms by, startling them all out of the petty argument.

"We should get back on the road," Sophie says, looking nervously at the increasing traffic around them, "it doesn't seem safe just parked here."

"And now we'll be stuck in rush hour traffic for the next hour," Hardison notes from the backseat, as he fiddles with the traffic update application on his phone.

They can practically feel Parker's grin widen before she speaks.

"So then, it might be a... _good time_ to go back the other way, right?"

Four simultaneous groans fill the air at the bad joke, but Nate starts the car back up anyway, shaking his head fondly as Parker squeals in joy.

.

.

"For the record," Eliot states, scowling at the crowd of teenage boys looking at Parker with interest, "I'm not happy about this."

"You're not happy about anything," Parker replies, "except maybe breasts."

The stunned look on Eliot's face is enough to make Hardison laugh until tears appear.

"This is why you're my favorite, girl."

"Why?" Parker asks, "Because of my breasts?"

Eliot smirks as Hardison chokes on his answer.

"Not so fun, is it?"

"Shut up."

"Boys," Sophie reprimands, as they reach the front door, "A few hours of," she pauses to peer inside with barely concealed distaste, "arcade games and dirty children wont kill us. And enough talk about Parker's breasts, please."

"Please," Nate agrees, slipping on his sunglasses in preparation for the bright arcade lights.

"Wouldn't hurt so much without the hangover," Eliot says under his breath, but just loud enough for Nate to hear.

"Yes, _mother_," Nate says, ignoring the subsequent growling from the possibly concussed hitter.

"Guys!" Parker says, hands on hips, "We're supposed to be having a good time. This is not a good time. Now shut up and get in there!"

She gestures, rather dramatically, to the entrance, and pulls open the door to allow her teammates in.

.

.

The _atmosphere _hits them all at once; earsplitting game noise, blinding lights, overpowering smells of food and stale beer.

"Hmm," Nate says, spotting the tiny bar. "Have fun," he waves to the others as he walks away.

"Well," Sophie says, dryly, "That didn't take long."

"Forget him," Parker says, "Look at the lions!"

They turn to look where she's pointing, noting the giant stuffed toy lions hanging in big nets from the ceiling.

"Wow," Hardison says, "Those are huge. Please don't try to steal them."

"Pfft," Parker scoffs, "I'm not going to _try _anything."

With that, she's gone, leaving the remaining three to look at each other with a mixture of amusement and apprehension.

"One of us should..." Sophie trails.

"No way," Eliot says, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.

They both turn to stare at Hardison.

"Fine," he rolls his eyes, "But you know as well as I do that I can't actually stop her."

Eliot just gives him another look, and Hardison rolls his eyes one more time before walking off in search of their wayward thief.

.

.

"So, what do we do now?" Eliot asks Sophie, as they survey the chaos in front of them.

Sophie wrinkles her nose, feeling wholly out of place in her designer dress and impossibly high heels.

A horde of children, shrieking and flailing, nearly runs them over, and only Sophie's quick grip on Eliot's arm prevents him from instinctively swinging.

"I thought you liked kids," she says, once the demon children have passed.

Eliot sighs.

"Need I remind you that I got hit in the head with a bat? And a wall. And several steel toes boots, not five hours ago. Kids are _loud._ And I can't drink if I have a concussion."

"Shame," Sophie murmurs, "Ooh, I have an idea! Follow me."

Sophie slinks off, leaving Eliot no choice but to follow, muttering about bad ideas all the way.

.

.

"Hardison!"

Parker's voice cuts through the noise of the busy arcade floor, pulling Hardison's attention to a sight he never thought he'd see.

"Girl, what are you doing?"

Parker grins, but doesn't respond. Hardison supposes that's because she's focused intently on the speeding arrows on the screen before her, her feet flying over the mat in a blur. Her lone Dance Dance Revolution competitor, an Asian boy of around twelve, is rapidly losing stamina, his steps are becoming more erratic, less precise.

But Hardison barely notices him.

He's focused on Parker. She's a mess; flying hair, flushed face, sweat-sheened forehead, with her baggy t-shirt falling off one shoulder with her frantic motions.

She glances back to him again, a positively gleeful smile spread across her face.

To Hardison, she's never been more beautiful.

.

.

"Ya know," Eliot smirks as Sophie ushers them into a clearly off limits back office, "Last time I got shoved into a locked office..."

"Now, Eliot," Sophie replies, tsking her tongue, "Mind your concussion."

The smirk she gives him rivals his own, but is somehow inherently more seductive. Eliot just growls and rolls his eyes at the gorgeous but off limits grifter.

"Tease."

Sophie grins widely.

"It's what I do."

Eliot pauses and shrugs. She has a point.

"I just figured you could do with some quiet," Sophie says, slipping out of seductress mode, "And I wouldn't mind some myself."

Eliot shrugs again and looks around the fairly empty room.

"Ok. So what do we do now?"

Sophie grins and holds up a deck of cards, "Your deal."

Eliot takes another look at Sophie's very expensive and very, very tight dress with speculation.

"Where did you even hide those?"

Sophie taps her lips once, as if saying 'grifter's secret.'

Eliot just shakes his head and accepts the cards. He should know better than to ask by now.

.

.

"That was fun," Parker says as she and Hardison finally walk away from the dance machine, back into the crowds of children.

"I could tell," Hardison replies, grinning as Parker gives up trying to fix her hair and lets it stay all tousled and free.

Parker looks through the crowds of children and weary parents.

"Where's everyone else?"

"Well, Nate's at the bar," Hardison pauses to give her a long suffering look, "And Sophie and Eliot _were_ over by the skee-ball machines, but I have no idea where they are now."

"Ok," Parker says, only half paying attention, "Ooh, we should go get chicken wings."

Hardison should be thrown by the random change of subject, but he's not. He supposes he's learned to speak Parker, at least sometimes.

"Cool, cool," he says, following her to the concession stand.

It's not even a minute later when Parker has a basket of chicken wings in one hand and two bottles of orange soda in the other. Clearly not having paid for any of it. Hardison just shakes his head fondly.

"Seriously?"

Parker grins around the bottle she's sipping from and Hardison swallows hard.

Drinking soda should not look that good.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Hardison takes his drink and leads them to the sole, surprisingly clean, empty table.

.

.

Nate watches the Keno screen with disappointment as his numbers fail to appear, again. Downing the drink in his hand, he looks around at the otherwise deserted bar area. He's drunk enough that the screaming voices around him have faded to a background hum, but not enough that he's happy about being stuck in a place that he knows Sam would have loved. The persistent singing of 'Happy Birthday', over and over, only serves to remind him of all the parties that he never got to give his son. Searching for the missing bartender, Nate wonders how easy it would be to just grab a bottle from behind the bar. Cursing under his breath as he notes the bodyguards at the door, he tries to convince himself, once again, that he's not a thief.

.

.

"How about we make this game a little more interesting?" Eliot drawls, giving Sophie a mischievous look.

Sophie refrains from rolling her eyes, but just barely.

"We are not playing strip poker, Eliot."

Eliot gives a dramatic pout, in faux disappointment, and Sophie can't help but laugh outright.

"Besides," she says, "I'd feel bad about leaving you in sitting in just your socks."

Eliot raises one eyebrow slowly, clearly willing to accept the challenge.

"Very well," Sophie says, grinning in a way that has even Eliot rethinking his decision.

Sophie shuffles and deals the cards, eyes never leaving Eliot's.

.

.

Hardison steals another glance at Parker as they're walking, and wonders if he'll ever truly get through her bizarre defenses. It bothers him sometimes, because he knows he's a pretty likeable guy. Sure, he's a thief that scoffs at most federal rules and regulations, but so is she. And sure, Parker's never worked on a team before, but neither has he. This team of theirs, as motley and dysfunctional as they are, is becoming a family of sorts, and Hardison just wishes Parker could see that. Even if she never really sees him.

"...I'll race you!"

Parker's voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and he tries to catch up, turning to look where she's pointing.

Go-karts.

"No offense, girl, but I've _seen_ you drive..." Hardison can't help but point out. Because he has. It's not something he wants to knowingly inflict on others.

But then Parker looks at him with such a disappointed expression on her face, his resolves crumbles. He's speaking before his brain can fully catch up.

"Alright, alright. Let's race. But please try not to hit any of the kids. I'm too tired to run from a mob of angry parents."

Parker grins, wide and breathtaking, and yeah; he's maybe more than a little screwed. Funny enough, he can't seem to care.

.

When Parker crashes into the barrier not ten minutes later, Hardison tries to be angry, he really does. But her laughter is contagious and his legs only barely hold him up as he reaches to help her out of the kart. And if he enjoys the way she falls into his side, still laughing, that's nobody's business but his own.

.

.

Nate opens the door to what he thinks is an empty office, only to be struck still by the sight in front of him.

"Umm, this isn't what it looks like," Eliot says, his considerably exposed skin tinging pink.

Nate takes in the scene: his fearless hitter clad only in boxers and socks, across from their queen grifter, fully dressed and wearing a smug smile.

Nate smirks.

"It looks like Sophie won. A lot."

Sophie laughs. Eliot glares, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Shut up."

Nate just shares an amused look with Sophie as Eliot begins putting his numerous layers back on.

"Where are Parker and Hardison?" Sophie asks, as Eliot finally finishes getting dressed.

Nate shrugs.

"I just wanted some place quiet. Didn't expect to find any of you here."

"Well let's find them," Eliot says, and Sophie has to bite her tongue from laughing at how adorably annoyed he sounds.

A buzzing noise fills the momentary silence, and the three look at each other for a moment before Sophie realizes it's her phone. A worried look passes over her face until she reads the text, and starts laughing instead.

"It's Parker," she says, shrugging in sympathy as both men cringe.

"It's not that bad," she hushes them, "She just wants us to do one more thing before we go."

"Am I going to like this?" Nate asks, already sensing the answer.

Sophie stands, brushing against Nate almost imperceptibly as she makes her way to the door.

"Probably not," she says, "But we're thieves. We can pretend."

"I'm not a thief," Nate feels compelled to point out.

Eliot just snorts.

"One of these days," Sophie says, giving him a smile that's more sympathy than anything, "You'll accept who you are, and be better for it."

Nate doesn't answer, but follows her out the door nonetheless.

Eliot just shakes his head at the pair of them, wondering how he ended up with this crazy team to begin with.

.

.

"I feel ridiculous."

The others look at Nate as he glares down at the kid that's strapping him into his vest, but offer him no sympathy.

"Come on, Nate, it'll be fun," Hardison tries, readying his gun.

"For you," Eliot counters, "You're a kid. Laser tag is not for adults."

Sophie ignores them all, focused on loosening her vest so that it doesn't wrinkle her clothes.

Parker claps her hands together once, grabbing their attention.

"Hey. Laser tag is fun for everyone. You get to run around in the dark and shoot people, without any actual blood or good guys chasing you!"

"Don't the bad guys usually chase you?" Hardison says, laughing.

Parker gives him an amused and exasperated look.

"We _are_ the bad guys, remember?"

"We do good," Hardison argues, "So we're not really the bad guys. Just..." he trails off, looking for the right wording.

"We pick up where the law leaves off, right Nate?" Sophie grins as the other team members laugh and agree.

"Something like that," Nate grumbles, but they can all tell he's trying not to smile.

"That's too bad," Parker says a moment later, as they prepare to attack. "I kinda like being the bad guys. It's more fun."

"Well then," Hardison grins, knocking his shoulder against hers as the doors to the 'battlefield' open, "Let's go be bad guys."

.

.

Later that night, when everyone else has gone home to sleep, Parker sits on the roof of the office, feet dangling idly from the edge. It's been a long, but fun, day, and she knows she should be sleeping like the others. But she doesn't want to sleep. Sleeping means that she'll lose this feeling, lose this moment. She leans back to look at the sky, and even though she can't see them, she knows the stars are there, watching over her. The thought makes her smile.

.

.

THE END


End file.
